Paradox
A lamb must be a contemptuous beast —
Who else lifts his snout with such scorn,
Giving vent to a baa quite as long and loud
As a blast from a withering horn?
And yet he might be a diffident soul
Who starts a noise and keeps it going
Lest folk come near with a pruning shear
And find timidity growing.
Who else lifts his snout with such scorn,
Giving vent to a baa quite as long and loud
As a blast from a withering horn?
And yet he might be a diffident soul
Who starts a noise and keeps it going
Lest folk come near with a pruning shear
And find timidity growing.
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